Chapter Nineteen

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If you were to wake us in the morning, you would have been confused at who's limbs were who's. I wake with a hazy head and it takes me a while to navigate my way out of Emma and Carol's arms and legs without waking them. I look around the room, the window is still open and the bottle of vodka sits on the sill, about 3/4 gone. The night is clear in my head, mainly because I'm not a black out drinker, but also because I don't think I drank too much. I'm still wearing Carol's jumper, but the silk dressing gown has come off so I'm just in my underwear and the headband. I put the vodka back in the floorboard and roll the carpet back over the top, then I grab the doona on my bed, fan it out and dive under and beside Carol as it settles back on us.

I tap Carol between the eyes and she opens her eyes sleepily. She lets out groan and holds her hand to her head.

"My head." She groans and sits bolt upright immediately, runs into my bathroom and vomits into the toilet, leaving the door open for me to see.

Emma still sleeps beside me.

"I feel sick," Carol groans.

I get up and walk into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at her in amusement. She opens an eye and looks up from the toilet.

"Why are you fine?" She asks jealously.

"Cause I'm a legend."

She crawls into the shower fully clothed and turns on the tap, sitting in the corner with her eyes closed and getting her all her clothes wet.

She sniffs and groans again holding her head in her hands.

"You should probably shower like a normal person," I joke.

"Yeah, I can't be bothered though."

"You are literally wearing just a dress and no bra," I say in disbelief at her laziness.

"Don't talk so loud," she grumbles.

I walk back into my room and crawl onto the bed beside Emma, she is awake staring at the ceiling in an expression of pain.

"Alright, Em?"

"Arg."

"Your head?"

"Yep." She says nodding at the ceiling and massaging her temples.

"I'm hungry, so as soon as Carol is out of the shower, you can shower and then we'll eat. Why am I friends with people who can't hold their liquor?"

The taps turn off in the bathroom and Carol wanders out in a towel.

"I hate you." She mutters as she passes me on the way to sit on the chair in the corner.

I gasp mockingly.

Emma walks slowly into the bathroom and gets in the shower, without closing the door. Carol opens the wardrobe and looks through all my clothes and some of hers she has left behind. She grasps the cupboard as she stumbles on her feet.

"Oh, for fucksake," I mumble. "Here, sit down and I'll get you some clothes to wear."

She sinks to ground and watches me as I flick through jumpers and pants.

"I can't even remember last night," she says confused.

"It was intense." I say toneless, flicking faster through the summer section of my clothes.

"Oh, God. What happen?" Carol says genuinely concerned.

"You admitted your everlasting love for Emma and she did the same. You two, oh, you were all over each other." I say seriously as I turn to face Carol.

She stares at me with her mouth open wide and an expression of shock. "No," she gasps.

"Yeah." I say, raising my eyebrows and turning back to the clothes and picking a too big jumper and tracksuits out of the drawer.

She looks at herself in confusion and shock. "But... But... That isn't true," she stutters. "I don't feel that way for Emma." She looks like she is on the verge of tears.

I laugh and chuck her the clothes. "Oh, Rol. I'm Joking."

She laughs quietly and smiles with relief. "You are a fucker." She says, clenching her jaw at me. She slips off the towel and I walk out of the wardrobe and back into the my room.

"Hey, Ange?" Carol calls as I slide the wardrobe door shut, "I didn't mention anything out of the ordinary, did I?" She asks casually, but her face says otherwise.

I twist my face into a thinking pose. "Nope. Get dressed, not everyone wants to feel jealous about your tits." 

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